I went back inside. I had intended to do some more research for my Well Versed poem but, with the Wi-Fi still down, decided upon an early night instead.

Monday February 26th

I’ve taken Dylan’s advice and decided to establish a growth mindset for myself. In this new spirit of positivity, I have declared there to be no problems, only opportunities.

Today was spent in trying to resolve all the opportunities that were awaiting me in my email inbox. There was also an opportunity with the vending machine at work which led to its retention of my pound coin when I attempted to purchase a Twix.

I taped a haiku to the glass:

Snack machine notice:

The light inside has broken

Yet I still function.

At home, I continue to deal with the opportunity of having no Wi-Fi.

Tuesday February 27th

Lorde’s Prayer

Our Father John Misty,

which Art in Hanson,

hallowed be thy James

thy Kinksdom come,

thy will.i.am,

in Earth, Wind and Fire as it is in Heaven 17.

Give us Green Day our Motörhead.

And forgive us our Travises.

Aswad forgive Them that Travis against us.

And lead us not into The Temptations;

but deliver us from Emo.

For Ride is the King Crimson,

T’Pau, and the Gloria,

For Everly and Everly.

Shamen.

Dylan must have told Sophie all about my series of disasters last weekend because when I turned up for 27th Club tonight, the first thing that Darren did was to ask me for my recipe for lentil cottage pie. He seemed to find this most amusing. I told him to shut up and watch the band.

They were called Zut Alors and infused ballads of partially requited love with the atmosphere of the Champs-Élysées. Berets were worn saucily. Accordions were played jauntily. There was on-stage Gallic smouldering and sultriness as befits a band born and bred in Merthyr Tydfil. Darren was charmed by the band’s faux-Frenchness and came away from the merch stand at the end of the night clutching a copy of their latest album, Je Ne Regrette, Rhian.

While they were on stage, a sudden image popped into my head of Liz in the role of Catherine Deneuve’s Belle de Jour; I folded up the thought, inserted it into an imaginary half-empty packet of mentholated Gauloises, before placing the box in my pocket to take another peek at when I got home.

Wednesday February 28th

The lack of Wi-Fi is severely testing my newly avowed growth mindset, not to mention my ability to watch videos of roller-skating cats and read Wikipedia articles on the American Coinage Act of 1965.

In such circumstances, it is customary for humankind to revert to a former, less developed state and so I turned my new television over to ITV4.